Only Forever DISCONTINUED
by Morgana Deryn
Summary: Josie Ealum was a scientist... Or at least she was trying to be. She only got into Project Rebirth on connections and dumb luck. Somehow an opportunity to finally get her degree in genetics turned into friendship with a genius and rescue missions with a war hero. Most importantly, it brought her to Bucky Barnes. 'Only forever... That's puttin' it mild.' Bucky/OC DISCONTINUED
1. Prologue - Job Offer

**This has been sitting on my desktop and bouncing around the back of my head for... actually nearly a year now. I saw the Civil War trailer and all my Captain America/Avengers feels came back. I started looking through some of my old story ideas on my computer and found this. I started getting really into it again, so I've decided to set aside my Naruto stories for a while - they weren't going well anyway - and focus on this. I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Prologue - Job Offer

I sighed in pleasure as I set the last sheet of cookies into the oven, smiling as I anticipated hot sugar cookies. Shutting the oven door, I hung the pot holder from a hook near the stove and set the timer, resting it on the counter. I brushed my hands together, pleased with the accomplishments of the afternoon, and left the kitchen, heading for the living room.

In one corner was my desk, which was where I headed. I sat down in front of the typewriter and flexed my fingers, readying myself. The desk on the left side of the typewriter was a mess of scribbled notes and excerpts from textbooks. The right side held only a pen and a neatly-arranged stack of papers that was now fifteen sheets thick.

I picked up my glasses from the mess of papers and slid them onto my nose.

"Now, where was I?" I mumbled, reading through the last few printed sentences on the paper in the typewriter. "Ah yes."

I raised my fingers to continue typing, only for a knock to cut me off two letters in. Grunting in annoyance, I tugged off my glasses – I hated to be seen in them – and set them down on the desk, standing and going to the door. I rose up on my tiptoes to peer through the peephole.

I gasped. Standing on my doorstep was Colonel Chester Phillips. There was another man with him, but of far more importance was

"Uncle Chess!"

I whipped the door open and beamed at the officer standing there. He smiled back, stepping forwards and hugging me. I inhaled deeply, taking in his familiar scent of gunpowder and paper. I hugged him back tightly, smiling as he kissed my cheek in a fatherly manner. I pulled back.

"Josie, it's been a while," Phillips greeted.

"Last May, I think," I agreed. "What are you doing here? And who's your friend?"

The other man stepped forwards, offering his hand. "Doctor Abraham Erskine."

Erskine was my height, slightly taller with his hat. He wore a tweed jacket and had a slightly scruffy beard and moustache. His hand was warm and solid. I took a deep breath, inhaling antiseptic, ink, and something almost buttery. He seemed like the stereotype of a college professor, and I couldn't for the life of my figure out why he would be with a military man like Phillips.

"Wonderful to meet you," I said, shaking his hand. I nodded towards the inside of my apartment. "Would you like to come in?" I asked.

"That'd be best," Phillips said, pulling off his hat as he stepped inside. Erskine did the same.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked, settling myself on the couch and crossing my legs. I folded my hands and rested them on my knee, cocking my head at Phillips. "It sounds vaguely like this visit is for business and not pleasure." The two men hung their hats on the stand by the door and I gestured for them to sit on the chairs across from me, smiling as I did and adding, "That would be a shame, considering I wouldn't have an excuse to break out Great-Granny Nevade's leaving home present. Do you drink, doctor?" I asked innocently. Erskine looked between Phillips and I uncertainly, giving me the distinct impression that I wasn't the only one not quite sure what they were doing here.

"Occasionally," the German doctor replied. I smiled.

"Good!" I lunged up from the couch, flapping my hands at the men as I passed and urging "Sit, sit!" They sat as I hustled into the kitchen, using a toe to hook my step stool out of the corner behind the table. I nudged it over to the oven and climbed up, opening the small cupboard there. It was used for one thing and one thing only: for storing alcohol and glasses.

I dragged down the bottle I was looking for and a trio of tumblers. I set them on a small silver tray with a cork screw and hustled back into the sitting room. The tray I placed on the coffee table and began pouring glasses.

"Nineteen-eighteen, the year I was born," I said, proffering the bottle for Phillips to examine. He whistled, impressed.

"Nevade doesn't like to part with those bottles," he recalled. I smiled secretively.

"Well, it was a special occasion," I said, passing out the glasses. "Now, to what do I owe the pleasure, Uncle Chess?" I asked, sitting myself back down on the couch with my tumbler in hand. I breathed in the scent, letting it curl across my tongue while I waited for a response.

Phillips took a sip and made a sound of satisfaction. "Damn good," he approved. "As to why we're here… the good doctor here is heading up a project, developing a weapon that could turn the tide of the war."

I raised an eyebrow. Then there was only one reason they were here. "And you want me to be involved?"

"Colonel Phillips," Erskine broke in. "While I'm not opposed to working with this Miss Ealum, I have no idea of her qualifications. You simply told me that I would be interested in having her aboard."

I looked from Erskine to Phillips, narrowing my eyes accusingly. "You haven't told him," I guessed.

Colonel Phillips shrugged. "You tend to be touchy about who knows."

"Of course I am!" I huffed. "I don't need more people telling me I shouldn't be doing what I do. I get enough of that from my stepmother," I grumbled, forgoing sampling the scent of the bourbon before I tossed back a hearty gulp.

"What exactly is it that you do?" Erskine asked.

I looked from him to Phillips, who nodded approvingly. With a sigh, I set my glass aside and leaned forwards, folding my hands on my knees. "I write papers, doctor," I explained, "on the topic of genetics, mostly. Human genetics and mutation, those are my areas of interest. My papers," I continued, "are published under the name of Elias Orlem, because," I gave a small, self-pitying small, "no one will be interested in reading the work of a woman whose only experience in genetics is her own research and readings."

Erskine's eyes had been going progressively wider as I spoke, and now he looked completely delighted. He turned to Colonel Phillips, scowling in annoyance. "You told me it wasn't possible!" he said irritably. "That Orlem was a myth who couldn't be found."

Phillips shrugged, looking entirely unashamed. "Normally that'd be true. Besides, I didn't want to get your hopes up before I knew Josie would take the job."

I raised my eyebrow, sucking in my cheeks. "And how did you know Josie would take the job?" I demanded. I snatched my glass up and sat back, ready to take a long sip.

"Because I've spoken with Columbia University," Phillips said seriously. "And they're willing to offer you a degree in genetics if you prove yourself on this project."

I choked, the liquor burning its way down my throat and into my lungs as I sputtered. "Beg your pardon?" I gasped around my coughs, covering my mouth with a dainty hand. "They'll do _what?_ "

"That's right," Phillips said, looking proud of himself. "You get the qualifications you need, Erskine gets the assistant he wanted, and I get a lab worker I don't have to actually pay. Everybody wins."

Sadly, Phillips was right, although I didn't want to admit it. The idea of finally having a degree to my name, or writing my ideas under my own name, of having the ability to get a job in a real lab where I could really test some of my theories… It was all I'd ever wanted, handed to me on a silver platter, and all I had to do was help the military.

It wasn't even a question. Some might have been hesitant to get involved with the Army, but I was not. A handful of my many cousins had already enlisted or were talking about it. We were, very much, a military family. My father was a Lieutenant Colonel stationed overseas in Greece at the embassy. That was how Colonel Phillips knew me, he and my father were old friends. 'Uncle Chess' as I called him used to drop by often when I was younger. To reminisce, to eat, to have the odd boxing match or shooting contest with my dad. I grew up surrounded by the military, and I trusted colonel Phillips not to get me involved in anything I wouldn't want to be.

If only out of his fear of Great-Granny Nevade. The woman was eighty years old and she could still make a grown man cry for his mother.

"What is this project?" I asked, curiosity coming out now.

"It's codenamed Operation: Rebirth," Phillips said, smiling slightly. He was confident I would be signing on. I noticed Erskine roll his eyes at the mention of the codename, like he found the whole idea silly.

"And what's the goal?" I pressed.

"Doctor?" Phillips said, turning to Erskine and urging him to explain. "Maybe you'd like to give a little back story on this one?"

"Of course." Erskine took a drink and then set his glass aside, clearly readying for a story. "I was a scientist in Berlin, until a man named Schmidt, the head of the Nazi deep-science division known as HYDRA, hears of my work. He comes to me, asking me to work for him. I refuse. He…" Erskine paused, a haunted look overcoming his face. I could guess that whatever this Schmidt had done to get the doctor on his side was not the kind of thing one talked about freely.

"Ich verstehe," I murmured, nodding to the man sympathetically. His eyes lit up slightly at my muttered German.

"He didn't like that," Erskine said simply, before moving on. "But eventually, I managed to gather some of my research and sought asylum in the United States. I offered them my program."

"And what were you working on?" I asked interestedly.

"It is a serum," Erskine said, leaning forwards intently, "designed to create a superior man. Stronger, faster, smarter, _better,_ than any other," he said almost reverently.

I nodded in understanding, looking between the two men. "So you get to see your research realized and the Army gets super soldiers," I said. "It's quite the deal."

"That's what we thought at the SSR. Your father ever tell you about the SSR?" Phillips asked.

"The Strategic Scientific Reserve," I said, nodding. "He only mentioned that you were involved in it in one of his letters. So that's who you're working with?" I asked Erskine. He nodded.

"We are currently hiring scientists to work on the project. I mentioned a need for a genetics assistant to the colonel. As a joke, I requested that he find Elias Orlem for me – the mysterious American geneticist, whose identity no one knows," Erskine said, looking at me in amusement. "I did not think he would actually do it!"

I laughed slightly. "Well, Uncle Chess is remarkably good at bending the world to his whim." I leaned over in Erskine's direction teasingly. "You know when I was younger I wanted to learn how to box, just like my father. He couldn't teach me without angering my stepmother, so guess who stepped in?" I nodded pointedly to Phillips. "And suddenly my cousins couldn't dog pile me quite so easily."

"Well," Phillips said, shifting uncomfortably. I got the feeling I was utterly ruining his reputation as the stoic colonel. "It wasn't much, really… I… Look, are you interested in the job or what?"

I narrowed my eyes, smiling slightly. "You knew Josie would accept the offer. What do you think my answer is?"

"Well then, a toast to your newest team member doctor," Phillips said, rising his glass. Erskine did the same. I flushed and hastily refilled my glass. Phillips gave me an incredulous look. I shrugged innocently and lifted my refilled tumbler aloft, clinking it with the other two.

The oven chose that moment to go off. I hastily sipped from my glass before setting it own and scurrying to the kitchen.

"Well, sugar cookies and bourbon isn't exactly the most normal of lunches, but are you gentleman interested?" I asked as I plucked up the potholder, opening the oven door. I pulled out the pan and wafted the smell pointedly towards the living room. I was very proud of two things when it came to my abilities: my baking and my brains, and I wouldn't tolerate insults to either.

"Yes please!" was the resounding answer from the living room. I grinned and started pulling cookies off the tray.

"Good. Doctor, would you mind looking over the paper I'm working on now? I would appreciate a second opinion."

* * *

 **What do you think? Good? Bad? Taco? Let me know! I'd like to take this through Captain America, the Avengers, maybe even some other Marvel movies.  
**

 **Real quick - the title of this story and the lyric in the summary are from _Only Forever_ by Bing Crosby. It's a very sweet love song and I recommend giving it a listen. That'll sort of be the theme song for Josie's story.**

 **Ich verstehe - I understand**


	2. Chapter 1 - First Day

Chapter 1 - First Day

I took deep, calming breaths as I walked through Camp Lehigh, keeping my face carefully stoic. One thing I hadn't considered before coming here was that Camp Lehigh, being a _military base_ , would be filled with _men._ Men, moreover, who hadn't see a woman in months, which were worse than normal men.

"It's awful hot out, you want to take off some layers?"

"You interested in some fun?"

"Hey doll face, you want to come visit my bunk later?"

I sucked in my cheeks in annoyance, running my fingertips over the folder in my right hand and tightening my grip on the briefcase in my left to keep from turning around and slapping the men calling out behind me. That wouldn't be the best way to start my new job.

I'd arrived at Camp Lehigh barely an hour ago and been instructed to park my car in a small airplane hanger that seemed to serve as a garage. From there I hustled to meet with Colonel Phillips. He handed over the folder of information Erskine had prepared for me, which I was now using as a coping technique. While that was happening, one of the soldiers would be bringing my things to the barracks I was sharing with an Agent Carter, the only other female on base.

I was heading to my barracks now, eager to unpack and dive into the folder of research but, more importantly, to get out of the main portion of the camp.

I glanced down at the rough map Phillips had been nice enough to sketch out on a piece of notebook paper. I looked up and turned down a row of barracks, starting up a whole new chorus of comments.

"Hey, look what we have here. Give us a spin!"

"Come out here and look what just walked into the camp!"

"Oi sweets, wanna come inside and _chat?"_

"Ice cold, ice cold," I hissed to myself under my breath, remembering Great-Granny Nevade's advice.

" _When it comes to business, don't give anything away. Be ice cold, like a glacier. You don't give anything away, they don't have anything to use against you."_

I assumed the same general thinking could be applied to perverts. I didn't have much experience. By virtue of being one of the youngest of my absolute swarm of cousins I had never had many problems with men. They were all too afraid to bring a horde of angry Ealum boys down on them if they messed with me.

And the Ealum boys were known for hitting _hard_.

Of course, that also meant I had zero experience with men period, but I supposed it was better than having the wrong kind of experience.

I spotted my sanctuary at the end of the row and picked up the pace as much as I dared, all but flinging myself at the door in my desperation to get inside. I reached for the handle only for it to be tugged away as the door was opened from the inside.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!" I gasped.

"Actually, I go by Bucky."

I reared back in surprise, blinking at the equally surprised soldier who stood just inside the door. He wore the normal cargo pants and Kelly green jacket that all trainees wore, but it was open over a white undershirt and rolled up to his elbows. His dog tags dangled lazily around his neck.

"I… what?" I wasn't quite sure how to respond to that. "What are you doing here?"

The man thrust one hand into his pocket and offered me the other to shake. I quickly tucked the folder under my arm and shook. "James Buchanan Barnes," he introduced himself. "But everyone calls me Bucky. I was told to bring some luggage up here and drop it off." He dropped my hand and pointed into the barracks, where my trunk and boxes sat at the end of one bed. "I'm assuming it's yours?"

"Y-Yes," I stammered, still a little surprised to have found someone in my room. It was then that I realized that while I'd been standing on the stoop with my eyes as wide as an owl's, I had yet to introduce myself. "Sorry, my name… Josephine Ealum. Josie," I added.

"Josie," Bucky repeated. "Welcome to Camp Lehigh, Josie," he said, stepping aside to let me in. I hustled forwards, only to bang my briefcase on the lintel. By sheer bad luck, the loose locks that always seemed to pick the worst times to flop open picked _that moment_ to come loose, spilling papers all over the doorstep.

I could have cheerfully ripped my hair out at that point.

"Son of a Protestant whore," I cursed under my breath, bending down to pick up the papers. Bucky hastily knelt down next to me, scraping some of the papers into and ragged pile. I quickly darted after two that were making their way to freedom on a light breeze, catching them and returning them to my briefcase.

"So I'm guessing you're one of Erskine's," Bucky said, passing me back the papers he'd pulled into a loose pile.

I nodded, shoving the papers into my briefcase and snapping it shut, checking the locks this time to make sure they weren't going to come loose again. "How'd you guess?" I asked, standing up. Bucky rose too, thrusting his hands into his pockets.

"Because I couldn't understand half of what I caught a glimpse of on those papers, and I'm pretty sure you're not here for basic," Bucky said with a charming quirk of his lips that was about three-quarters smirk and one-quarter smile.

"Well, yes, I am," I said awkwardly, shifting my weight on my feet. "And I have research to catch up on, so I…"

"Sure," Bucky said, stepping smoothly away from the door. He raised a hand in a goodbye, calling, "See you around, Josie."

I watched him stroll away, hands sung comfortably in his pockets as he went, before I ducked into the barracks and shut the door behind me. I made immediately for the regulation cot made up with army corners and threw myself down onto it, screaming into the pillow.

Stress sufficiently released, I rolled over and heaved myself upright, finally taking in the place where I'd be living.

The room was pretty standard. Near the front was a small kitchenette with a coffee pot, which I was delighted to see. Two desks were pushed against one wall, one with a spray of papers across it and the other empty. I assumed that was mine. The beds were on the opposite wall with a small wardrobe next to them for our clothes. One door in the back of the room led to a bathroom, complete with toilet and shower. I was relieved to know that I wouldn't be sharing a shower with the soldiers. At this point I wasn't sure how much of that my nerves could handle before I snapped and throttled someone.

Cursory examinations done, I began to get myself settled. One box was an old hat box and contained old letters from friends and family, as well as a few pictures and postcards. It was pure sentiment, but I refused to go anywhere without it. When I was on the Ealum plantation it was under my bed, in my apartment it had been under my bed, and here, it would be under my bed.

I nudged it under with one foot and set to work hanging up my clothes in the wardrobe. Thankfully, hangers were provided. Unfortunately, the whole wardrobe smelled of mothballs.

As I worked, I was thrust back into a memory of being young and ironing my father's clothes with Great-Granny Nevade. She and I would finish the ironing and then, while the clothes were still hot, we'd hang them up in my dad's cedar wardrobe that he'd inherited from his grandfather, Nevade's husband. The heat would make the whole room smell like cedar and we'd sit in a chair by the window and just breathe the scent for a while until my dad came home or Nevade hustled me off to dinner, whichever came first on that particular night.

I smiled happily as I turned to my mostly-empty trunk. My books were a mess after transport, so I pulled them all out and lined them neatly along the bottom, spines facing up so that I could see them. From the other box I pulled out a typewriter and set it on my desk.

I was just about to start organizing my papers when the door opened. A woman stepped inside and flinched slightly upon seeing me.

"Agent Peggy Carter," I guessed. "Sorry, I'm a day early."

"Ah," Peggy said, realizing who I was. She strode forwards, low heels clicking on the floor, and offered me her hand. "You're Josephine Ealum, the colonel's scientist."

"Josie, please, and I'm a scientist only in the loosest term," I admitted, shaking her hand. "I'm honored to even be considered for this project, to be honest."

"You should be," Peggy said bluntly. "Doctor Erskine's been picking only the best and brightest for his project. Clearly he thinks you can handle it."

I wasn't quite sure if that was a compliment or not, but I took it with a smile.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" Peggy offered, moving towards the kitchenette.

"Please," I nodded, and turned back to my desk, opening my briefcase. I sifted through the mess of papers, realized nothing was too far out of order, and then lifted the whole mess out, straightened the pages, and shoved them into a drawer to go through later. Of far more importance was the folder from Phillips, but that could wait until I'd gotten acquainted with my new roommate.

"Thank you," I said as Peggy offered me a cup of tea. I sat down in my desk chair and rotated it to face her desk. Peggy did the same, settling in with her own cup. I took a sip and made a face at the unexpected bitterness.

"Sugar?" I asked hopefully. Peggy shook her head.

"Not with the ration."

"I see," I said glumly. I was from Kentucky, I'd grown up on sweet tea, and I absolutely loathed the bitterness of tea without sweetener in it. "Next best thing for flavoring tea then, I suppose."

I stood up and headed for my trunk, pulling out the one thing besides books that was still inside it – the bottle of bourbon I'd shared with Phillips and Erskine. I lifted it up triumphantly and headed towards the desk with it, adding a splash to my tea. I offered the bottle to Peggy.

"Interested?" I asked.

"Dear god, yes," Peggy said, and snatched the bottle, pouring a little into her own tea before passing the bottle back. She took a sip and hummed in contentment. "That's quite good, thank you."

"It's my family's label," I explained, returning the bottle to the trunk. From what I understood, alcohol wasn't exactly _approved_ on the base.

"Your family makes bourbon?" Peggy said in surprise.

"And mines coal, and oil, and also I've got an aunt that breeds and trains racehorses. They keep winning titles." I shrugged. "We Ealums tend to be lucky."

"What on Earth are you doing here?" Peggy asked incredulously. "I don't mean to be rude, but… it hardly seems like you need the money."

I took a sip of tea and shook my head. "I'm not getting paid. I'm getting a degree," I explained. "I have papers published under a false name precisely because I don't have the credentials to back up my theories."

"I heard about that," Peggy nodded. "Elias Orlem, wasn't it?" I nodded. "Your area of expertise is human mutation, as I understand it. That's why Doctor Erskine picked you for this project." I nodded again. "Can I ask what first sparked your interest in a subject like that?"

I choked on my tea ever so slightly.

"Oh…." I inhaled nervously. The scent of bergamot and bourbon danced in my nostrils, undercut with Peggy's own scent. It was floral and floaty, but backed by the metallic scent of steel. "Personal, I'm afraid."

"I understand," Peggy nodded, respectfully backing off.

"Can I ask a question?"

"I suppose."

"You seemed awfully eager for a drink," I observed with a teasing smile. "Rough day?"

"Ah." Peggy sighed. "No worse than usual. You'll realize quickly, if you haven't already, that it's not easy being a woman here. It grates, occasionally."

"The comments," I said, recalling my own walk through the camp with a grimace. Peggy nodded sympathetically.

"You'll get used to it, and some days are worse than others. You're a new face. They'll lose – not all of their interest, but some," she assured me.

"Thank god," I mumbled into my tea.

* * *

The next morning I was wondering when Peggy's prediction would come true, because the men definitely didn't seem to have lost any interest. If anything, they'd gained it. The comments were still going strong as I strode through camp, a folder tucked under my arm as I munched on my breakfast of an apple.

I took a vicious bite and dodged a man who tried to step in front of me and catch me in conversation. I would not be slowed in my quest to get to the lab and relative safety. At least in the lab I could prove that I knew an Erlenmeyer from a Florence beaker.

I all but flew into the lab with a flurry of clicking heels and shut the door behind me. A few of the men gave me confused or surprised looks, but turned back to their own work, deciding it was more important than me. I noticed that there seemed to be a variety of ages represented in the lab, from younger graduate students to older doctors who'd proved themselves worth their salt.

"Fraulein Ealum!"

Doctor Erskine approached me, his lab coat swishing around his legs.

"Guten morgen, Arzt Erskine," I greeted politely. Erskine's eyes sparkled in pleasure.

"It is indeed. Welcome to the lab," he said, pulling a hand from behind his back and offering me a folded pile of white cloth. I took it, smiling at my name stitched over the breast. I unfolded the lab coat with a flick of my wrists and tugged it on over my shirt.

"Thank you sir," I said, folding my hands in front of my waist. "Where do you want me?"

"Your desk is over there," Erskine said, pointing to a cubicle containing a desk and chair, a chalkboard, and not much else. "Were you able to read everything I sent for you?" he asked as I moved over to the desk.

I nodded, understanding his concern. Some of the papers were in German. He'd heard me speak it a few times, but he didn't know if I was proficient.

"Yes, I was," I confirmed. "I'm fluent in German."

I didn't add that I was also fluent in French and could get by in Greek and Japanese. My stepmother had insisted I learn French, something about being a staple of well-bred ladies. My father was currently stationed in Greece, and I had attended some of his language classes with him before he was shipped out. A friend, Yori Tsukuda, had stayed with us for a few years when I was younger. She'd taught me Japanese, and I could get along passably in it thanks to the letters we exchanged. Or used to exchange, rather. I hadn't heard from her since the war started.

I shook off my worry for my old friend and focused on the present and its opportunities.

"That's a relief," Erskine smiled. "I won't have to translate my original notes again."

I chuckled slightly. "Glad to make things a little easier, doctor."

"You may call me Abraham," he allowed.

"Then you may call me Josie."

"Josie." He nodded. "I'll leave you to get to work."

I smiled and nodded, already turning to the chalkboard. I lifted up the piece of chalk and began to sketch out some of the formulae that had been drifting through my head since the night before. I saw Abraham smile and shake his head slightly from the corner of my eye before moving off to get back to his work.


	3. Chapter 2 - Conversations

Chapter 2 - Conversations

I was delighted with the lab. Aside from a few sidelong looks my first couple days, the men seemed to accept that I was there because Erskine had chosen me, and he trusted me to handle myself. It was a relief to be able to have a discussion about science without my lack of a degree being a problem. I was even learning some things from other fields as I hung around the lab and listened to the other scientists.

Doctor Harry Cooper, or Doc as everyone called him, was an aging man from Kansas, and the head of the medical team. I'd taken to joining him at his desk for lunch and listening to him as he told me about rare conditions or diseases, explaining more rudimentary medical concepts as he outlined their affects on the body. Considering the fact that my medical experience was limited to fixing broken noses and wrapping sprained ankles when my cousins hurt themselves, it was interesting to plunge deeper into the workings of the human body.

To my surprise, Howard Stark was involved in the project. He was apparently providing some backing as well as his brains. He was more into the engineering portion of the project though – designing the machines that would be necessary for testing and administering the final product, as well as keeping the other lab up and running. I was told it was in Brooklyn, but beyond that I didn't know much, besides it was being readied for a human test subject when the serum reached that stage of testing.

Shaking away my thoughts of my first week I turned back to the book I was reading under a tree near Phillip's office. It was a German genetics textbook I'd found in a closet in the lab, right next to a couple of cleaning products that looked like they hadn't been touched since the Great War.

I was reading less for information and more for review. I hadn't spoken or read German with any consistency in years and I'd forgotten a lot of the technical jargon I used to know in the language. The textbook was a good refresher, and also a good break from the lab while I nibbled on a sandwich for lunch.

"Josie Ealum, right?"

I looked up sharply, blinking as the sun barraged my eyes. The person standing in front of me was a silhouette. I inhaled, taking in the scent of sweat and rain and something electric. I shaded my eyes, looking the person over again.

"Bucky Barnes," I recalled, placing him. He looked a little different this time. His Kelly green jacket was tied at his waist and his dog tags were tucked into his shirt. More noticeably, he was sporting a split lip and black eye that he definitely hadn't had last time I saw him. I raised an eyebrow at that, but chose not to comment. He hadn't seemed like the type to start fights, but you never knew.

"You remember me," he said, looking pleased by that fact.

"You scared me," I countered. I was still employing my tactic of ignoring and freezing any of the men who spoke to me. It wasn't helping much, but at least it wasn't making things worse.

"Sorry about that," Bucky said sheepishly, sweeping a hand through his dark hair. "I didn't see the book… What're you reading, anyway?"

Wordlessly I closed the book and held it up. Bucky leaned down, squinting at the title.

"Genetik: Grund… lagen und er-wei-ter-te," he floundered. I bit my lip, taking pity on him.

"Genetik: Grunlagen und Erweiterte Theorien," I said easily. Bucky nodded, looking at the book skeptically.

"Sounds… Sounds _painful_ , actually."

I chuckled. "German does tend to do that," I admitted, lowering the book back to my lap and opening it back to the page I was reading before. A shadow loomed over the page, standing there. Bucky hadn't left. I twitched slightly and tried to focus on the words on the page, but I couldn't. For one, they _weren't_ interesting. Suddenly I wished I had a copy of Pride and Prejudice or Romeo and Juliet. Something stupid and girly that wouldn't have sparked conversation and I could have easily absorbed myself in.

"Can I help you?" I asked shortly, looking up at him. That cocky smile that always seemed to linger on his lips stretched a little wider and looked a little more genuine.

"I was just wondering," he said, bringing a hand to his chin thoughtfully and bracing his elbow in the palm of his other hand. "where you're from?"

That… was unexpected.

"Why… do you want to know?" I asked slowly, furrowing my brow. I was used to the soldiers calling out comments on my appearance. I wasn't used to them actually having a conversation with me or showing an interest in me as a person and what I could do.

"Because your accent isn't exactly what I'm used to back in Brooklyn," Bucky said with a shrug. "And I'm curious."

"Take a guess," I drawled, not quite sure if I wanted this conversation to continue or not. Bucky hadn't once made a pass at me yet. Like me, he seemed content just to talk, and I was happy to discuss something that didn't relate to cell structure and genes.

"Hmm," Bucky mused, eyes flashing in amusement at the challenge. "Atlanta?"

"Not hardly."

"Savannah?"

"No."

"Birmingham."

I laughed. "Not even close!"

Bucky ruefully admitted, "I've got nothing. Unless it's in New York I never really bothered to remember many cities. Never thought I'd leave."

For a moment he looked wistful, homesick, and I took pity on him.

"I'm from Kentucky," I admitted. "A small town, barely six hundred people."

"Wow." Bucky seemed awed by the idea of a small town. "I didn't know places like that still existed."

I shrugged. "I've never been fond of large cities," I admitted. "I like the quiet in the country."

Bucky's grin/smirk shifted to a little less grin and a little more smirk. "Is that a subtle way of saying you'd like me to leave you to your peace and quiet?"

"N-No," I stammered hastily, remembering my manners. "That's not what I meant, just… I like places that aren't so… busy," I finished lamely, curling my legs under me and pulling the textbook to my chest. I winced. I was making an utter fool of myself, and I knew it.

"Well, anything else I need to know about you?" Bucky asked, leaning against the tree trunk lazily. "Josie Ealum, the girl from Kentucky who likes the quiet and speaks German."

I wasn't quite sure how to respond to that. Bucky hadn't once made a rude comment or given me so much as an inappropriate glance. On top of that, he was making polite conversation. I was getting used to handling perverts, but it had been a while since I dealt with decent guys. Such was the curse of spending most of your time with family.

"I don't know why you want to know anything," I replied slowly. "All I know about you is your name and that you're from Brooklyn."

"Ah, but we've already got something in common," Bucky countered. I frowned slightly.

"We do?"

"Neither of us like our first name." Bucky dropped down in front of me, sitting cross-legged in the grass. I mentally thanked him for that. My neck was starting to get sore looking up at him and I no longer felt so painfully small. "Me, I think James is just a little too fancy for a guy like me. What's your excuse?"

I shrugged. "Josephine is a mouthful," I admitted. "I always just told people to call me Josie because it was easier."

"Do you like it, though?" Bucky challenged.

I blinked. Of all the things I'd sat and thought about for hours – languages, genetic mutation, worry for my family in the army – my name wasn't one of them. I stared at Bucky. How in the world had he managed to send my brain spinning like that?

Bucky raised an eyebrow, looking vaguely concerned by the expression on my face. "You don't have to answer," je assured me. "That was a little personal.

"No, I… just never considered it," I admitted with a sheepish giggle, hugging my book tighter to my chest and running my fingertips along the edges of the cover. "I don't really care either way, I suppose."

"I see," Bucky said, and glanced up at the sun in the sky overhead. "I'm supposed to be doing laps soon," he mused aloud.

"And my lunch break is almost over," I agreed, and made to stand. Bucky shot up, offering me his hand. Smiling nervously but still pleased by the gentlemanly gesture, I took his hand and rose. I dropped his hand to dust off my skirt. It wouldn't do to walk back into the lab with dirt on my clothes.

"Good luck with whatever you're working on," Bucky said as he turned to go, raising a hand. "I'll see you around, Belle."

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

Bucky turned and grinned jauntily, walking backwards with his hands thrust in his pockets. "That's what they call girls like you, right? Southern Belles?"

With a cocky wave he took off at a light jog in the direction of the track, leaving me staring after him with my head cocked and a blush on my cheeks. I quickly shut my mouth when I realized my jaw was loose.

Shaking my head slightly, I fixed my eyes on my right hand, squeezing it into a fist. My nails bit into my palm, drawing blood. I opened my palm to observe the slowly-oozing red. I raised my hand to my mouth and licked the blood off with a twist of my tongue. I glanced down at my cleaned palm and saw no sign of the cuts.

Sighing, I tucked the book under my arm and headed back into the lab. When I stepped inside, I nearly ran headlong into someone. I jerked back, but the person in front of me jerked in surprise, sending two files skidding off the pile in their hands and onto the floor with a plop.

"Damn it," cursed Dr. Worth. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at me. "Oh. It's _you._ "

Dr. Worth was part of the genetics research team. Ever since I had arrived he had been less than friendly, and no prizes for guessing why. I'd heard him make more than one comment about how I should go back where I came from and start making a home.

"It is," I replied brightly, blinking innocently. "May I help you with that, Dr. Worth?" I asked politely.

"No, I don't want you messing it up!" he snapped, and knelt down to begin gathering up the papers. I saw no way I could possibly mess up a file by helping him gather it up, but I decided not to inflict my presence on Worth any longer. I stepped over a couple of his papers and headed for my desk. My lab coat was waiting for me, thrown over the desk chair, and I tugged it back on, feeling my mind flick into science mode as I did.

I sat down, staring at my chalkboard. The main problem that I was finding in the serum was that it should do what it was supposed to, which was increase the strength and resilience of a human body. Unfortunately, the human body wasn't ready for that kind of thing. The serum would force the body to replicate bone and muscle and flesh, but the body couldn't keep up with the demands. Essentially, the person would burn through the energy in their body and die before completing the transformation.

I bit my lip, observing the percentages and formulae scrawled across my chalkboard, waiting for something to leap out at me, something I could sink my teeth into.

"Josie."

I looked up and saw Erskine standing by my desk. He was looking tired. His face seemed more lined than usual, and the frames of his glasses didn't quite hide the dark circles under his eyes.

"Abraham," I greeted, frowning slightly. "Are you alright? You look like you didn't have a very good night's sleep last night," I said pointedly.

"It is hard to have a good night's sleep when one does not sleep," Erskine replied drily, but even his wit was lacking its usual punch.

"Is something wrong?" I asked him worriedly. I liked Erskine, I didn't like to think about him getting sick. On top of that, if he was ill, the project would grind to a halt. He was the lynchpin that kept the whole thing going. "Should you see Doc?"

Doctor Cooper walked past, his nose buried in a chart as he did so. "Already tried, he won't let me look at him," he muttered as he passed, shooting Erskine a less-than-pleased look.

Erskine waved off our concerns. "Just a lot on my mind. It seems the moment I lay down if the moment decides it's a good time to solve the world's problems."

I nodded sympathetically. "Well, if you need anything, let me know," I offered.

"I will," Erskine assured me before moving off to confer with one of the chemists who was currently looking like he would very much like to set his own chalkboard on fire. I smiled slightly as I turned back to my chalkboard. I hadn't quite reached that level of frustration yet.


	4. Chapter 3 - A Bad Day

Chapter 3 - A Bad Day

"I have to say I'm surprised," Peggy said, panting slightly next to me.

"By what?" I asked as I jogged next to her. The pair of us had decided to wake up early that morning and go for a jog around the track the soldiers used for training. We hadn't taken into account that this being an _Army base_ , a place for training _soldiers_ , the track was a lot longer than the one at your average high school.

"I wasn't sure you'd be one for early-morning exercise."

"It was the only time my dad had to work with me," I explained.

"Work with you?" Peggy repeated. "Your father exercised with you?"

"I asked him to. I had too many male cousins who enjoyed roughhousing. It was necessary for survival that I learn how to run and how to hit back." I smiled at the memories of my dad shaking me awake in the mornings. I'd get up, get dressed, and follow him out onto the grounds around the plantation house. We'd stretch, run laps, do push-ups and sit-ups until the rest of the house was awake, and then we'd go in for breakfast, sweaty but happy.

"I see," Peggy said, smiling slightly around her pants. "Always wondered what it would be like to... have a big family. I'm an only child... and so is my… father."

"Your mother?" I asked curiously.

Peggy shook her head. "She has a brother, but he… never married."

Peggy was panting hard now. I was barely breathing deeper, but I adjusted so that she didn't feel so bad.

"Well if you want to borrow some of mine…" I panted, "you're welcome to. Hah!"

We had reached the end of the track. Peggy and I stopped running and she doubled over, hands on her knees as she took a few deep breaths before straightening up.

"I believe I'll need a shower before I face the day," Peggy said, wiping a hand across her sweaty forehead in distaste. "Coming?" she asked, tilting her head in the direction of the barracks.

I shook my head. "I think I'll stretch a moment and then join you."

"Don't take too long," Peggy said sternly. "You have a job to do."

"Yes, mother," I replied with a cheeky grin. Peggy rolled her eyes at me in amusement before taking off for a shower and a clean change of clothes.

I felt great, like I could run another couple of miles. I looked at the track contemplatively and considered running another lap. But Peggy was right, I had a job to do, and after another lap and a cool down I would most definitely be inexcusably late to the lab.

Instead I began stretching out my joints, bending my arms and shoulders and loosening up. I dropped to the ground, feet in front of me, toes pointed, and bent forwards. My fingers just brushed my toes and I held the pose for a few minutes before spreading my legs into a split and touching my head to the ground, feeling the strain in my back.

Pleased with the workout – this was the first time I'd gotten any real exercise since I got to the base – I stood up and breathed in the morning air deeply, savoring the slight chill of the breeze before turning to go back to camp.

I hustled along the roads. The camp was just starting to wake up for the day, with sounds of soldiers moving around inside the barracks. A few early risers were already up and dressed, leaning outside of the buildings and enjoying the morning.

I attracted a few looks as I rushed for my barracks, but thankfully most people were too tired to realize I was there. I turned down a the side road that lead to my barracks and picked up the pace, anticipating nice, hot shower.

"Hey, pretty lady. Where are you hurrying off to?"

From between two barracks a hand emerged, catching my wrist. I jerked to a stop and a burly blonde man stepped out, grinning down at me.

I tugged weakly at his grip. "Let me go, please," I requested, my voice tight.

"I don't think so," the blonde said smugly. "You're always rushing around with your head down, now that I've got you, I think I'd like to talk for a while."

"I have somewhere I have to be," I said coolly. _Ice cold, ice cold._

It wasn't working quite as well as it usually did though. My blood was already pumping from the morning exercise, and ice cold was hard to do when I felt warm blood pounding in my temples. I was annoyed with these soldiers who seemed to think I owed them the time of day for some reason, and I was very close to fed up with them.

"Where?" the blonde scoffed. "Running coffee for those lab rats?"

I blinked at him. "Running coffee?" I repeated dangerously. _Ice cold, ice cold!_ "That's what you think I do?"

"Aside from eye candy, I don't see what else you could do," he said, gaze sweeping up and down my form lewdly. "Maybe some light cleaning?" He laughed at his own joke.

I wasn't amused.

"Get your hands off of me," I snapped. "Right now."

 _Ice… cold…_

"No, like I said, you'll run off, and we haven't finished our conversation yet, doll."

 _Burning hot._

"Yes we are," I snarled, and drew my fist back. I swung at him, nailing him in the eye. He reared back, releasing my wrist. I pulled it back and swung again, making contact with his chin. He yelled in pain and staggered back. I had to give a little hop to reach, but for good measure I landed a solid kick in his stomach, flinging him back against the outside of the nearest barracks building. Clutching his stomach and gasping for air, he slowly slid down the wall.

"Do not," I hissed dangerously, "touch me again."

I turned around and held my head high. I knew exactly what was happening around me, the soldiers murmuring amongst each other and staring at me. A couple looked mad, a couple looked impressed, but most just looked startled. Either way, they all stared as I walked up to my barracks, stepped inside, and shut the door behind me with a bang.

Peggy looked up at me in surprise from where she was busy slicking on her red lipstick. She took in the rage on my face and immediately rose, asking, "What happened?"

"They can say whatever they want," I said dangerously. "But they will not lay their hands on me."

Peggy's face hardened in understanding. "Are you hurt?" she asked sternly. "Do you need to see Doc?"

I shook my head. "No." I smiled maliciously. "Can't say the same for the guy who touched me, though."

Peggy looked a little put off by my expression. Hastily, I fought down the red still flickering at the edges of my vision and schooled my expression into something tamer. She watched me the whole time, and when I was done, she nodded contently.

"That's far better than the alternative," she said softly. "Go on, I think you've earned a hot shower. I'll tell Erskine you'll be a bit late."

"Don't bother," I said shaking my head. All I wanted was to throw myself into my work, into something that was purely logic and thought and cool-headedness and get away from the anger pumping through my blood and making my fists clenched.

Peggy seemed to understand the desire to throw myself into work, because she gave me a look over to make sure I was fit for duty and then nodded.

"Alright. I'll see you later tonight," Peggy said, and pushed in the chair at her desk, sliding the small mirror she used for her makeup and hair into a drawer. She slid on her shoes and headed out. I stepped past her into the bathroom, shucking my clothes and stepping into the shower. But unlike what Peggy had recommended, I shuddered under cool water instead of basking in the heat.

 _Ice… cold…_

* * *

I wasn't entirely surprised when Erskine approached me only an hour after I'd gotten to the lab. He was looking even more tired than he had been the past couple of days and was also looking unhappy with me. I dipped my head, wincing. I admired Erskine, the last thing I wanted was him to be disappointed in me.

"Colonel Phillips would like to see you in his office," Erskine said stiffly. "Miss Ealum, I hope I didn't make a mistake when I asked you to come here."

I stood up and pulled off my lab coat, folding it and draping it over my chair. I took the time to fight down my gut reaction to start blaming the blonde man who'd grabbed me. It was his fault, but I didn't think Erskine would appreciate me casting blame.

"Sir," I said, turning to face him and folding my hands in front of my waist. "I would never put my hands on someone who didn't put theirs on me first."

Erskine looked slightly mollified by that. The displeasure leaked out of his face, leaving him looking exhausted.

"I see. Well I cannot be mad at you for that. Viel glück, Fraulein Josie," he wished me.

"Danke," I said and moved to the door.

I held my head high as I moved through the camp. I saw a couple of the soldiers giving me passing glances and muttering to their friends under their breath, pointing to me not at all subtly. I knew what they were discussing and I knew what they were wondering. Would I be tossed out of the program?

I doubted it highly. Colonel Phillips was a second father to me, he would have no problems with me defending myself if one of the men grabbed me. Hell, he was the one who taught me to box.

I knocked on the door of Colonel Phillips office. When I heard the call to come in I stepped inside and seated myself in one of the uncomfortable wooden chairs in front of Phillips's desk. The whole top of it was spread with papers and files. A stack teetered precariously to the left. Phillips was busily filling out a report when I entered. He was still writing when I sat myself down. He finished the section he was working on, set his pen aside, sighed heavily, folded his hands, and looked at me.

"I'm guessing I know why you're here?"

"A recruit with a black eye filed a report?" I answered bluntly. Phillips snorted.

"Indeed he did. Pretty nice bruise on his jaw, too. I'm surprised you were nice enough to kick him in the stomach instead of going for his balls. I thought Nevade would have drilled that into your head."

I smiled slightly. As I had expected, Phillips wasn't upset with me. He knew that while I was capable hurting someone, the only times I ever used those abilities were to protect myself or to knock some sense into one of my cousins.

"He just grabbed me, nothing too inappropriate, he just wouldn't let go. So I decided to be polite."

"There was nothing polite about what you did to that boy, Josie," Phillips said sternly. "He came in here steaming mad and demanded I toss you out on your rear."

I knew that wasn't going to happen of Phillips wouldn't be nearly so jovial, but I couldn't help but tense up at the mention of punishment.

"What did you say?" I asked with forced casualness. I could tell from the pointed look on Phillips's face that he wasn't fooled.

"What do you think?" he scoffed. "I told him to fill out a complaint and then get out." He held up the paper he'd been scribbling on. "Care to add your side of the story?"

I explain to him about my morning jog with Peggy, about coming back to the barracks by myself, and how the blonde had come out of nowhere. I told him all about how I had requested more than once that the man turn me lose and how he had refused repeatedly before I laid into him.

"I see," Phillips said, nodding once I finished. "Well, I know exactly what to do with this complaint then." He tossed it into the trashcan beside his desk and looked up at me, eyes sparkling with amusement. The bags around his eyes were heavier than usual though. He, like Erskine, was looking wrung out and exhausted.

I leaned forwards, concerned. "Uncle Chess?" I asked softly. "Are you alright?"

"Of course, why do you ask?" Phillips said brusquely. I shook my head.

"You know why," I said reproachfully. "You looked like you haven't had a decent night's sleep in days. Erskine's looking the same way." I observed him shrewdly. "Is something going on with Rebirth?"

Phillips sighed, rubbing his temple irritably. "On the record, nothing's wrong and everything is progressing as hoped."

"And off the record?"

"We're strapped for cash. I've been petitioning the Senate and Erskine has been writing letters explaining about what exactly he needs the funding for – since for the life of me I can't explain it – and we're still just getting nickels and dimes tossed at us. The good doctor is starting to worry his project will be shut down."

I nodded in understanding. "That would explain a lot. He's looked so stressed the past few days. I was wondering what was going on."

"Well now you know," Phillips said, leaning back in his chair and resting his hands on his stomach. "We'll have to pull a Hai Mary out to get much from the Senate before we can show them some real concrete progress. Stark's covering our expenses for a while but there's only so much he's willing to put into this."

"I see," I nodded thoughtfully.

"Well, then get back to that lab and get me that evidence I need for the Senate," Phillips said, flicking a tired hand in my direction and urging me towards the door. "Give your father my best when you write next."

I smiled as I stood up. "I will," I promised, and left the office.

* * *

I peered around the lab. As expected, most everyone was gone. It was nearly midnight, and the only people still present were a pair of chemists swaying tiredly near a chalkboard of squiggles with steaming coffee cups clutched tightly in their hands and stubble on their jaws. A third chemist was sprawled across the desk behind them.

Judging by the light under the door to his office, Erskine was still there as well. I cautiously crept past the chemists, but I needn't have bothered. They were too out of it to notice much of anything. Quietly, I knocked on the door to Erskine's office.

"Come in," was the tired reply. I opened the door and stepped inside, shutting the door behind me. Erskine sat behind his desk surrounded by a sea of paperwork. I could see a ledger open in front of him, an unnerving red pen held in his hand. He tugged off his glasses and rubbed his eyes for a moment, putting them back on before addressing me with a weary smile.

"Guten abend, Josie," he greeted weakly. "Isn't it a little late to be up?"

"Apparently not," I said, nodding to him pointedly as I sat down in the chair opposite his desk. "I had something I wanted to talk to you about."

"What is it?" Erskine asked, perking up slightly and leaning forwards in interest.

"Phillips told me you've been having money troubles with the Senate," I admitted. Erskine sighed and leaned back wearily in his chair, mumbling something about Phillips having a big mouth under his breath in his native language.

"I noticed you both seemed tired and I asked him," I explained hastily. "He was trying to keep me from worrying."

"That was nice of him," Erskine said, but he still sounded a little tart. "But I don't want you worrying about money troubles too."

"That's why I made a few calls," I said sheepishly, fiddling with the edge of my sleeve.

Erskine's eyes narrowed. "You did what?" He leaned forwards. "Fraulein Ealum, this project is top secret, if you have told anyone what we are working on I will have no choice but to-"

"I didn't!" I assured him quickly. "I didn't. I called my great-grandmother, Nevade."

Erskine frowned. "You… called your grandmother?"

I nodded, feeling a little awkward. It was always uncomfortable explaining to people that my family was very close to Howard Stark in terms of wealth. We'd been lucky in our investments after the Civil War and those investments had turned into thriving businesses, the profits of which flowed to everyone in the family.

"The Ealum Corporation," I explained slowly, "has money coming in from cotton, coal, oil, liquor, horses, even a couple of steel mills. As you can imagine, those generate quite a bit of profit."

Erskine's eyes widened. "I can imagine. I knew you came from money, Miss Ealum, but I didn't realize…"

"Most people don't, we pretty much stay out of the public eye, unlike our generous benefactor Howard Stark," I said with a small smile. "But I called Nevade. I explained that the project I was working on was underfunded and that it was to help the war effort."

"That is all?" Erskine asked sternly. There was only so much that we were allowed to say about the project, and talking about it at all wasn't exactly approved of. I'd been very careful when talking to Nevade to make sure I didn't give away anything.

"That's all," I assured him. "And she authorized me to write this."

From the pocket of my navy blazer I pulled out a folded check and passed it over the table to Erskine. He took it curiously and unfolded the check. His eyes widened and he fairly choked when he saw the amount.

"Miss Ealum!" he gasped. "This is… too much!"

"It's really not," I said firmly. "You know my father is a Lieutenant Colonel currently in Greece. But my grandfather is a retired army captain, and my great-uncles also served. Four of my cousins have enlisted since the war started, and two more are considering enlisting before the moth is out. For us, this is not just an investment in your project, but an investment in bringing our family home safely."

I bit my lip. I didn't talk about it much, but I worried about my family. Lionel, with his big bear arms who used to hook my legs over his shoulders and dangle me upside down until I thought my head would explode. Charles, who was more suited for books than guns, but who had a patriotic streak a mile wide. Peter, the brat with whom I'd had a decade-long prank war going on. Claude, the youngest, barely eighteen, who used to crawl into her bed when the fall thunderstorms blew through the state.

Erskine looked at me grimly and I knew he understood. He didn't say, but I could guess that he had lost people to HYDRA. He knew what this project meant to me, and to my family – a chance to end the war sooner and pull our family out of harm's way.

"I hope this will help bring your cousins home," Erskine said softly, holding up the check.

I smiled. "I don't doubt that it will."

* * *

 **Viel glück - Good luck**

 **Danke - Thanks**


	5. Chapter 4 - Animals

Chapter 4 - Animals

" _I had taken a loathing to my gentleman at first sight. So had the child's family, which was only natural. But the doctor's case was what struck me. He was the usual cut and dry apothecary, of no particular age and color, with a strong Edinburgh accent and about as emotional as a bagpipe…"_

"Belle!"

I whipped around at the shout. The comments from the recruits had died down since I proved that I could handle myself, but there was only one person who would shout that name at me.

"Bucky," I said in surprise as he trotted down the gravel path towards me. He stopped by my side, waited for a truck to rumble past, and then spoke again.

Or rather, he tried to.

"What happened to your face?" I demanded, shutting my book with a snap and tucking it under my arm. There was a cut on his lip and one heck of a shiner around his right eye. I looked down and saw that his knuckles were scuffed and scraped. "Did you get into another fight?" I demanded sternly. Last I saw him the bruises from his last fight had barely faded and now he had new ones.

Bucky blinked, a little surprised by how vehement I was.

"Just a little one?" he said uncertainly. I rolled my eyes.

"Why is it that every time I see you, you're bruised?" I grumbled. Bucky rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, messing up his hair.

"Well, this time," he explained slowly, "it was because of Jack."

I stared at him blankly. "And who is Jack?"

Bucky held up his hand a couple inches above his head. "Big guy, blonde, you punched him a couple days ago."

I blinked. "You… He… He came after you?" I said in surprise. Bucky shook his head sheepishly.

"I think it was more like _I_ went after _him_."

"Why?"

Bucky scowled. "Because a guy shouldn't do something like that to you. To any woman."

I stared at him, still disbelieving. I was used to having my cousins take on any guy who crossed me. But that's what family did. Bucky wasn't my cousin. He wasn't family. He had no obligation to do anything but he had anyway, and he'd gotten himself hurt in the process.

Despite wanting to strangle him for getting himself a mouse when I'd already taken my pound of flesh out of the blonde – Jack, who even cared what his name was? – I was touched. Guys didn't do that kind of thing for me. Guys didn't hang around me period, for fear of my vastly over-protective cousins. We Ealums tended to have boys. Of the twenty cousins in my generation, only four were girls, and no one but family was ever allowed near us.

I opened my mouth to say something – to yell at him, to thank him, I didn't really know. _Ice cold_ , I reminded myself. _Ice cold._

"You shouldn't have done that," I rebuked him. "I handled the situation myself; you shouldn't have gone and gotten yourself hurt on my account."

Bucky gestured to his damaged face. "This? This is nothin'! You should see some of the scrapes I've gotten myself into pulling Steve out of trouble."

I cocked my head. "Who's Steve?"

Bucky grinned, affection shining in his eyes. "My best friend back home, Steve Rogers. Steve's… Steve's great. Really smart, really artistic. He's in art school now. But he's got this bad habit of picking fights."

I raised an eyebrow pointedly. "A habit you don't share?" I countered.

Bucky shrugged. "I'm not a ninety pound asthmatic."

I blanched. "Ah. I see."

"Yeah. Steve will go on these moral tears whenever he sees someone doing something wrong and call them out on it. Most guys, they see this skinny twig coming at them and they figure one punch and they can move on with their day. Problem is, Steve doesn't like to go down. He'll keep popping up and getting knocked down until someone makes him stop."

"And that someone is usually you," I guessed.

"Exactly," Bucky nodded. "But anyway, I'm sorry if I crossed a line, it's just…" He was giving me his signature combination smirk/smile, but this time it was about one quarter smirk and three quarters smile. It made his blue eyes warm up and made my stomach lurch slightly. "To be honest, I heard what you did to him."

"And?"

"And I thought you let him off easy."

That… was actually completely true. Bucky didn't even know how true it was.

"Aha." I quickly smothered my laughter, pressing my lips into a thin line, but the damage was done. Bucky looked at me in surprise, a smile starting to quirk his own lips.

"What?" he asked. "What's funny?"

"It's just…" A couple of giggles slid out and before I could stop them I was laughing whole-heartedly, doubled over and clutching my stomach. Bucky stood over me, watching me laugh with amusement written plainly on his own face.

"Well I don't know what I said," he announced, "but I'll count making you laugh as a win."

I straightened back up, gasping down a few breaths of air to stabilize myself. My cheeks were red, and it wasn't just from laughing. "N-Nothing really," I assured him. "Just… you're right, I could have done a lot worse."

"To be honest," Bucky said, tucking his hands into his pockets. He offered me his elbow politely. I took it and we started walking along the edge of the road, mindful of the shifting gravel and the muddy ground. "I'm kind of surprised. I don't know many girls who can throw a punch like that."

I frowned slightly. "Ah. I see."

Years of my stepmother's words echoed through my head, cursing my interest in science, my determination to learn how to fight, my avoidance of things like cooking and cleaning, my fashion choices, anything and everything about me really. Everything I did was unladylike and unfeminine and it absolutely was not acceptable.

"Not terribly feminine of me, was it?" I murmured wryly.

"Maybe not, but it was damn impressive." I looked up at Bucky, surprised. He wasn't even looking at me, just staring ahead and grinning, lost in the past. "You should have seen Jack when he staggered into the barracks afterwards, cursing you up and down and wheezing the whole time." He flushed suddenly, seeming to realize what he'd said. "Ah, sorry. I haven't exactly picked up the best language, hanging around these guys."

I scoffed. "I grew up surrounded by boys and soldiers. Trust me, I've heard worse."

Bucky looked down at me, his eyes glinting with some kind of… something, I wasn't really sure. "What are you reading?" he asked, looking down at the book tucked under my arm.

I glanced down at the book, having briefly forgotten I was holding it. I pulled it out and offered it to him.

"The Strange Case of Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde," he read the title. He flipped the book open and I saw him wince slightly at the wording. I didn't blame him. The first time I ever tried to read anything written from a different time period it made my head hurt too, but I eventually slid into the words and began to understand.

"This is the one about the man who turns into a monster, right?" Bucky asked, flipping a few more pages into the book. "I think my high school teacher mentioned it once or twice."

I paused. It was a conception many people had about the book, but really, it was more about man vs self, man vs his animal nature. It was a poignant and cautionary tale. Don't try to deny your inner demons, but do not give them too much power either. I appreciated that struggle more than most.

"Not necessarily," I said slowly. Bucky paused, turning to look at me. I stared ahead thoughtfully. "It's not that Hyde is a monster, not really. That's the horrible thing. He came from a human. He's the beast inside the man, the one we all have inside of us."

Bucky raised an eyebrow at the book, looking at it with new respect. Then his eyes flicked to me. "And this is your light reading?" he asked wryly.

I shrugged sheepishly. "I like it," was all I said. I was hesitant as I added, "Would you like to borrow it?"

"Well I'll admit I've probably got a better chance of understanding this than the last book I found you with," Bucky said with a chuckle. He held the book up. "Sure you don't mind?"

I shook my head. "No, I've read it often enough that I have it mostly memorized," I admitted. "It's a favorite of mine."

"You sure you don't mind me borrowing it?" he confirmed.

"I wouldn't have offered if I did," I said, and glanced down at my watch. My eyes widened as I saw the time. "Oh lord!" I exclaimed. "My lunch break ended five minutes ago!"

"You'd better go, Belle," Bucky urged, loosening his grip on my arm. "Wouldn't want you getting in trouble on my account."

I hustled off as fast as I could. I paused a few feet away and turned, jogging backwards lightly and waving, "My name's not Belle!" I called to Bucky, before turning back to face front and picking up my pace.

Behind me, I heard Bucky laugh and call back, "I know!"

I was still smiling when I hurried into the lab, my head ducked and trying not to draw attention to myself as I made my way to my desk. I wasn't looking forwards to getting caught for being late, and I was a bit angry at myself that I was. I was usually very punctual, always watching the time. Bucky had distracted me enough that I'd completely forgotten I needed to be back at work.

I gave a small squeak of surprise as a figure stepped in front of me. Tilting my head back slightly, I saw that it was Dr. Worth, his ginger hair falling messily over the thin frames of his glasses. He was a tall, skinny rail of his man and delighted in looking down his nose at me.

"You're late, Ealum," he barked.

 _Technically_ , he had seniority over me because he had a title in front of his name. Actually, nearly everyone in the lab had seniority over me. My ideas had gotten me here and gotten me some respect, but my lack of a PhD meant that I had the least credentials in the building. Worth was one of the very few that ever pulled rank. Everyone else knew Erskine approved of me, so they pretty much left me to m devices, which I appreciated. It was how I did my best work.

"Sorry Dr. Worth," I said respectfully. "I lost track of the time."

"Clearly," he sneered, crossing his arms. "As much as you probably enjoy being around all of these soldiers, you do have a job to do besides husband-hunting. Remember that," he finished coldly.

My hands fisted at my side, nails biting into my palms. I focused on the tiny points of pain to distract me form the growing urge to rip Dr. Worth's throat out with my teeth. He'd been an absolute bastard to me since the moment I showed up. He delighted in catching me doing something that could even be considered slightly unproductive. A week into my tenure here he had called me out for 'fiddling with papers to kill time.' I very coldly explained that I was organizing my notes.

"I will, sir," I replied coolly. "It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't."

I stepped around Worth and hustled back to my desk. I pulled on my lab coat with a little more vigor that was really deserved and heard a stitch pop. Wincing and embarrassed at the fit of temper, I pulled on the other sleeve a little more gently.

I looked down at my hands. Once again, I'd pierced the skin a little. Darting a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, I surreptitiously licked away the tiny smears of blood from my palm. Satisfied, I turned back to the chalkboard that was currently my arch enemy.

The problem from before still stood. The chemists had managed to strengthen the muscles and bones so that the experiment wouldn't be torn apart or burned through. The problem was, it made them resistant to the serum. The minor triumph had turned into a major hit to morale. We'd thought we'd made progress when it turned out to be nothing. The chemists were tearing out their hair and everyone was a little frustrated.

"Fraulein Josie?"

I looked from the chalkboard to Erskine. "Abraham," I greeted with a smile.

I was pleased to see that he looked a little better rested than he did a week before. The money from Nevade had been enough to take some of the pressure off for the time being. It wouldn't last long and he and Phillips were still petitioning the Senate for more funding, but it wasn't quite as frantic now. I was pleased to have been able to help the project. And to help Erskine get a decent night's sleep, come down to it.

"I have papers that need to go to the main lab in Brooklyn," he explained, holding up a file. "Would you be willing to take them to Stark? They mostly pertain to the genetics aspects of the project, and Stark knows enough about chemistry to figure out the rest."

I smiled. I was settled into the base, and I liked it fine, but it would be nice to get out and see something new. And besides, the idea of meeting Howard Stark was intriguing. I wondered what he was really like – the playboy of the papers? The genius scientist? Stark was a bit of a mystery.

"I'd be honored," I said with a smile. Erskine passed the file over. It took it and tucked it safely into a drawer of my desk.

"Danke," he said with a nod, and moved off to converse with Worth. The ginger doctor towered over Erskine. Over the top of Erskine's head, Worth shot me a hateful look. I blinked, then realized he wasn't pleased that I was going to be going to meet Stark.

Shaking my head, I turned away from Worth and back to the chalkboard that I was steadily growing to absolutely hate. I scowled at it and at the layer of chalk dust on the floor under it. Come to think of it, my trashcan was overflowing too…

With a groan, I turned my chair around to face the board and sank into it, propping my chin in my hands and staring.

* * *

" _My mama done tol' me, when I was in pigtails, my mama done tol' me, a man's gonna sweet-talk and give you the big eyes…"_

I sang absently as I swept the floor of the lab. The night was dark outside, only the twinkling stars providing any illumination. The lab still blazed inside though with the industrial lights blaring down from overhead.

While searching for some fresh chalk for my board, I'd found a little corner of the store cupboard dedicated to cleaning supplies that looked like they'd been gathering dust since before the war. My trashcan and the chalk dust were calling my name. I'd never had a problem cleaning, and the lab in general could definitely use it, so I made that my project for the night.

For me, cleaning was almost meditative. I came from a wealthy family, but that didn't mean I grew up never doing any work. My father insisted on it. I had chores from the time I was old enough. I vividly remembered scrubbing the tile in the bathroom every other Saturday and doing my own laundry from the time I was tall enough to reach the controls on the washer.

Cleaning was something I could shut off and do while my mind drifted from thought to thought. I did some of my best thinking when I was cleaning. My thoughts would stray and stretch in all directions, snapping back into place once they'd found a topic they wanted to stick on for a while and then latching on like a pit bull.

I continued to hum the song as I compiled a list of what I needed to do. I meant to ask Peggy if she was willing to spar with me sometime, I'd do that when I got back to the barracks tonight. And I had been cleared to leave base this weekend to go into Brooklyn, Peggy also said she needed to give me some information about the lab security.

I finished with the broom and set it back inside the closet. I picked up a dust rag and set about cleaning the flat surfaces of the lab. I dragged my rag over all of the equipment, careful not to press something inadvertently. Then I moved on to the desks, giving all of them a quick rubdown, being sure to put everything back where it was.

An idea was forming at the back of my mind. I wanted to request an impromptu boxing match with Colonel Phillips sometime in the coming days. He and my father had gone through basic together and they'd learned to box there. I remembered watching them go a few friendly rounds when Phillips visited us every now and then. I vividly remembered the time he'd given my dad a hard-enough pop to the jaw that he'd actually knocked him down. My stepmother, Sarah, had been furious, shrieking like a vulture when dad came down to dinner with a grin and a blackened jaw.

"Look who finally figured out what they're _meant_ to be doing."

I whipped around, my eyes widening. It was the ginger geneticist, leaning against the door frame and giving me a superior smirk. In the three weeks I'd been working here, I'd found several things about him. His name was Anthony Worth. He ate a ham sandwich everyday for lunch. He did not like me.

I scowled at him, placing my hands on my hips and glaring at him.

"I don't know what you're implying, Dr. Worth," I replied, forcing myself not to toss the dust rag into his face in irritation.

"Just that women don't have any business strutting around in lab coats," Worth replied saccharinely, pushing himself off the doorframe and stepping into the lab proper. He approached me, staring me down. I just widened my stance and tilted my head back, daring him to cross me.

His mouth quirked to the side, like he was amused by my shift in stance. That made the anger start to bubble up from my stomach.

"I. Do not. Strut," I bit out, doing my best to bore a hole in his head with my glare.

Worth rolled his eyes. "Right. Then what do you call it, strolling around in heels with your face made up? We all know the only reason you're here is to try and snag a soldier for a husband."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "If that were true, I'd hit them less and flirt with them more."

Worth snorted. "Who knows how women's minds work? You people play all kinds of strange games."

My mouth dropped open, a strangled sound of rage escaping despite my best efforts. Worth's eyes flashed in triumph at the proof that he was getting to me. I snapped my jaw shut and gritted my teeth, narrowing my eyes at him.

"That's a weak argument and you know it," I snapped at him. He had the audacity to laugh at me.

Then he seemed to notice where I was standing. I was right next to his cubicle, dust rag in my hand. His eyes darted from the rag to his desk. Instantly his eyes went back to me, glaring daggers.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded, stalking forwards furiously. He pushed past me brusquely. As he past I caught a whiff of him. Some kind of cologne, paper, and something bitter. He looked over his desk with frantic eyes, like he expected me to have shredded his notes or – oh I didn't know, gotten lipstick all over them, something painfully feminine like that. His eyes darted up to me suspiciously.

"What were you doing to my work area?" he asked, stepping closer to me. Worth was tall, but so was I. He didn't tower over me quite as much as he'd hoped to, and I could tell it bothered him by the way the corners of his lips turned down.

I thrust the dust cloth under his nose pointedly. "Cleaning," I replied shortly. "What do you think I was doing?"

"Did you touch any of my work?" he pressed, swatting my hand and knocking the cloth out from under his nose.

"No, I would never!" I replied sarcastically.

The truth was, I hadn't. Worth was almost painfully particular about his work area. When he finished for the day there was never a paper left on his desk. He tucked it all away in his drawers in some kind of convoluted filing system no one else could manage to understand. All I knew was that it involved some kind of numeric code and was far more complicated than it needed to be.

All I'd done was scoot his cup of pencils – all exactly the same length – to dust under it, and then I put it back. There was nothing else on his desk for me to touch.

"You'd better not have messed anything up," Worth muttered angrily as he tugged open one of his drawers, rifling through the papers. I couldn't tell if he was really talking to me or not. "I won't be set back because some bitch playing scientist got curious…. Doesn't even deserve to be here, pure favoritism…"

"Excuse me for trying to be nice!" I exclaimed. Worth looked up just as I hurled the dust rag at him. It smacked into his face satisfyingly and slid to the ground with a satisfying thump. Before Worth could make another derogatory comment, I stalked out of the lab, hands fisting and unfisting at my sides as I tried not to slip…

A bit of blood leaked into my palm when I clenched my hands too hard. I could smell it, warm and metallic. With a scowl I brought my palm to my mouth and licked the blood away irritably, shivering slightly at the taste. Something about it appealed to the more animalistic side of me. The same side that wanted to stalk back into that laboratory and rip Worth's throat out with my teeth.

I paused, taking a deep breath and closing my eyes. My fingers tensed, curling into claws and then flexing out in a rhythm as I tried to calm myself down. My nose twitched at the smell of someone familiar and I could hear soft footsteps and the brushing of fabric against fabric.

"Who got you so worked up?"Bucky asked. I opened my eyes and found him leaning against the corner of the closest building, looking at me with his head tilted lazily and a confident little smile on his lips.

"Doctor Anthony Worth," I replied with a snarl, barely fighting down a genuine, chest-deep growl of anger. "The Ginger Geneticist, as I like to call him," I scoffed.

Bucky raised one eyebrow. "He the guy that's always looking down his nose?"

I chuckled. "Yes, that'll be him."

"What'd he do?" Bucky asked, sliding his hands into his pockets and pushing off the edge of the building. He tossed his head in the direction of the barracks, an invitation to walk. I brushed a hand across my forehead and let out a sigh, releasing all of the anger in a woosh of air before I did something stupid, like punched a wall. I stepped up to his side and we started to walk.

"He was being sexist, plain and simple," I explained. "Saying a woman doesn't belong in a lab, let alone _this_ lab. I'm unqualified, I should be in a kitchen… the usual vitriol."

Bucky shook his head. "I couldn't make heads or tail of those papers I saw in your briefcase, and you're the one that wrote 'em. I'd say you know what you're doing."

"That's exactly it!" I burst out, waving my hands in the air. "I do know what I'm doing… but," I relented, "I don't have a degree. Most everyone else working on the project has a degree in one of the sciences or is working towards one, and I'm entirely self-taught. In fact, that's part of my salary, you could say, is a degree from Columbia, so that people _can't_ question my abilities."

Bucky shook his head, laughing slightly. "Well no wonder he doesn't like you."

I jerked away from him, opening my mouth and narrowing my eyes, ready to let him have it. Bucky saw my face and hastily held up his hands, stalling me.

"No, I didn't mean it like that!" he corrected. "I just meant if you taught yourself all that, smart as you are… he's probably jealous."

"Jealous," I repeated softly. "Yes, I can understand that, I suppose."

"Right," Bucky nodded confidently. "So, see? Ignore him, he's not worth your time."

"I'm not sure how well that'll go," I admitted somewhat sheepishly. "I… may have lost my temper with him."

"Lost your temper with him like you lost your temper with that soldier?" Bucky asked, raising his eyebrows. "I'm sorry I missed that. I'd have like to see you deck that guy. He's always sneering at the rest of us guys, just because we're here for basic and not solving the world's problems."

"No," I chuckled. "I went after him with a dust rag."

"Well, from what you've said, he deserved a good dusting," Bucky said, leaning down in my direction just a little and tossing me a wink. "This you?"

"Indeed it is," I said as we stopped beside my barracks. I shifted to face Bucky, giving him a genuine smile. "Thank you, Bucky. I needed that."

And I really did. I felt like I had to keep my frustrations with my colleagues to myself. Erskine had his own problems, Phillips wasn't much for soul-bearing, and I wasn't quite friendly enough with Peggy yet to want to pour my heart out to her. Bucky, though, with his unique brand of advice and jokes, was a good listener.

Bucky grinned, pulling a hand from his pocket and giving a lazy, two-fingered salute. "Any time, Belle," he said, and started off. "Good night!" he called over his shoulder.

"Goodnight," I murmured to myself, opening the door and stepping inside the barracks.


	6. Chapter 5 - Blue Eyes

**This chapter is a continuation of the last chapter and it's purely fluff, I mean really. I was just feeling all gushy and warm inside and this happened. It's a shorter chapter but I hope you like it!**

* * *

Chapter 5 - Blue Eyes

Peggy was sitting at her desk, already in her nightgown, robe, and slippers for the evening. In one hand was a letter on official stationary, but she was focused on me.

"And who was that gentlemen?" she asked pointedly. I flushed slightly, knowing where this conversation was about to go.

"Just one of the recruits," I said breezily. I liked Bucky, I did. I liked talking to him, and he listened to whatever I had to say without saying it was unladylike or telling me I was doing something I shouldn't be. And yes, I wasn't blind. That boy's face was kissed by angels – and so was the rest of him, all told.

But Worth's words were fresh on my mind. I was here for my career, to make a name for myself. Not to chase a pair of dog tags around the base.

"Does this recruit have a name?" Peggy asked leadingly.

"Peggy." I whined, trying to get her to let it drop. She just raised an eyebrow at me and sat back in her chair, waiting patiently. I sighed. "Bucky Barnes."

"That wasn't so hard, now was it?" Peggy said pointedly, standing and making her way to the tiny kitchenette. The kettle was whistling and ready. "I was just having tea, would you like a cup?" she asked, nodding to the slightly chipped green mug sitting out already with a tea bag waiting.

"Yes please."

"I'll leave you to make it."

Peggy and I had quickly discovered that having the other make tea for us didn't work. Peggy liked her tea hot, bitter, and with just a little bit of milk. I liked mine cool, sweet, and occasionally with a dash of bourbon. We chalked it up to cultural differences.

I joined her at the small table, taking a long sip of my cool tea. I smiled slightly, remembering the long days lounging in the shade of the porch with my cousins during the heat of the day, fanning ourselves and gulping down sweet iced tea by the pitcher, watching the dogs pant in the shade.

"I was wondering if you'd be up for a little spar in the morning," I requested. Peggy raised an eyebrow.

"I know you're capable of handling yourself," she said slowly. "But I've had formal training, and I don't know-"

"So have I," I cut her off.

"Have you?" she asked curiously. I nodded, smiling.

"Aside from the normal rough-housing with my cousins, my father was a very good boxer back in the day. He taught me, and Uncle Chester used to give me tips when he dropped by."

"Uncle Chester? Your father's brother?" Peggy guessed. I scoffed.

"No. Colonel Phillips, if you can believe it. He's a friend of my father's."

"Really?" Peggy asked in surprise. "I suppose that does explain a few things."

"Like what?" I took another sip of my tea, reminding myself to get Peggy some of the raspberry tea my aunt was fond of.

"Like why an uneducated woman is involved in our project." I tried not to take that personally. Technically, I was uneducated, by any measurable standards. "I was surprised Colonel Phillips recruited you without more than your word as to having written those papers," she explained. "Now I knew why: he knew it was you writing them the whole time, didn't he?"

"Yes." I smiled slightly. "Have you read any of my work?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"And I'm not a geneticist. I haven't the foggiest what you were going on about."

I laughed. "That's fine. To be honest, most of my work is purely theoretical, but I am familiar with practical work and how it's done. And really, most of my job here is theoretical anyway."

"How's it going, by the way?" Peggy asked, and that turned into queries about my home and hers, what we missed most, and our hopes for the end of the war.

* * *

"So, are you enjoying working for our good doctor?"

Peggy ducked as I threw a punch at her head and came up towards my side. I lowered my elbow and blocked her. She swung at me again and I skittered backwards.

"Miss Ealum!"

Surprise made me lower my guard. I twisted around to see who had called my name. Dr. Erskine was standing in the doorway of the little gym that Camp Lehigh boasted. His eyes widened and he opened his mouth to shout a warning, but not before Peggy's wrapped knuckles landed on my shoulder with a surprising amount of force for a woman her size.

I was already off balance, and I toppled to the ground. My head smacked into the mats and instinct took hold. A concerned Peggy hurried to my side, but all I saw was a looming opponent.

"I'm sorry, Josie, I-"

A shot of adrenaline went through me and I lashed out with a foot, nailing Peggy in the ankle. She yelped as she dropped, her elbows banging painfully to the ground. I rolled onto my side and felt a snarl curl my lips back. Peggy looked up at me, panting, eyes wide.

Peggy, who I'd spent hours talking with last night. Who was my roommate and the closest thing I had here to a best friend.

I recoiled, tucking my hands back against my chest, feeling my nails bite into my palms. I took deep, frantic breaths, trying to get control of myself. The adrenaline was still pounding in my veins. I worked to wind it back in, trying to force my heart to slow back to a normal, sedate pace.

The sound of running footsteps provided a sufficient distraction. I looked from Peggy's wide-eyed stare to see Dr. Erskine standing at the edge of the mat.

"Oh Gott!" he cried in German. "Are you two alright?"

I looked at Peggy desperately, twisting up onto my knees so that I knelt next to her. "Peggy, I'm so sorry," I insisted. "I just reacted, I didn't think… Are you alright?"

Peggy was looking at me with this expression… like she hadn't quite seen me before. It was crushing, like she'd just punched me in the gut. Then the expression was gone, shuttered off behind a polite smile and hidden away like it had never happened. But I knew it was still in her mind.

I had lashed out. There was no other word for it. She'd seen me coming at her with a snarl, she'd seen the look on my face and the way my nose had wrinkled, my lips curling.

"It's fine, josie," she said reassuringly. She got to her feet and left the ring just a little faster than was really necessary. "I hit you, you hit me. We were sparring, it happens." She turned and sat down on the bench where we'd left water and towels.

"I'm still… I'm sorry," I repeated, slowly rising to my feet. I wasn't quite sure what else to say. I'd slipped up, and she'd seen, and that changed things. We'd been getting along well, and then I had to go and do something like this and ruin it.

Dr. Erskine cleared his throat. "Alright, well then. I think it's time you both got back to work. May I steal her back, Agent Carter?"

Peggy was still panting, a glass of water resting on the bench beside her. Her forehead gleamed with sweat and her curls were everywhere. She looked almost unnerved as she sent me a parting glance.

"Of course, doctor," Peggy replied. She grabbed her water and beat a hasty retreat to the locker room to change into her usual uniform.

"Miss Ealum, I need a word."

I winced at that. Dr. Erskine usually called me Josie. If he was calling me Miss Ealum, then I'd definitely done something wrong. And I had a bad feeling I knew what.

"What's happened?" I asked as I moved to the bench Peggy had just vacated. I took a few gulps of water, despite the fact that I wasn't really thirsty, and began unwrapping the tape from my knuckles. I frowned when I saw a few blots of blood from where my nails bit into my palms, but the marks were already gone.

"It would seem that Dr. Worth has filed a complaint against you," Dr, Erskine said. I looked up at him and found him just staring at me, a look of disappointment in his eyes. His hands were folded in front of him, waiting.

"What did he say I did?" I asked wearily, although I could already guess. I tossed the tape down onto the bench and sat down.

"According to Dr. Worth you physically assaulted him," Dr. Erskine explained. "Normally I would dismiss this as academic rivalry, but you have proven yourself capable of physical violence before. Just now I saw you assault Agent Carter," he said, nodding to the ring pointedly. I followed his gaze and in my mind's eye I could see Peggy sprawled out on the ground, that startled and hurt expression on her face.

"That was just instinct," I said automatically, blinking away the image of Peggy. Dr. Erskine sat down next to me, folding his hands in his lap. He nudged me with one shoulder.

"Was the incident with Dr. Worth instinct as well?"

He looked disappointed in me, and that hurt. There were very few people in my life I truly admired. My father, my great-grandmother. Peggy was making her way onto that list, and Dr. Erskine was near the top. In way, having him disappointed in me was even worse than having my own father give me that look. At least my father would give you a way to atone, chores or drills, something. Dr. Erskine wasn't giving that option, he just wanted information, an explanation.

I shook my head silently and leaned forwards, burying my head in my hands. I did _not_ want to see him looking at me like that. Dr. Erskine was an impressive man – a genius scientist, one who escaped from HYDRA, who was doing his best to help the war effort. Letting down someone like that was crushing.

"Josie," Dr. Erskine said slowly, placing a hand on my shoulder. "I need an explanation."

I straightened up, sighing. "I have a temper," I began. Dr. Erskine smiled slightly at that.

"I had noticed."

"I stayed late to clean," I recited. "Dr. Worth came in and he started saying how I didn't belong there. He got agitated when he realized I'd dusted the top of his desk, kept demanding to know if I'd touched his files."

"Ah." Dr. Erskine nodded. He knew as well as anyone how particular Worth was about his files. "I see."

"He kept going on about how I didn't deserve to be here, how I only got into the project because of favoritism. I suspect he meant my connection with Uncle Chess – Colonel Phillips," I hastily corrected. "He called me a bitch."

"And did you react violently?" Dr. Erskine asked pointedly, looking at me over the top of his glasses.

I shrugged. "I didn't really think so. I threw a dust rag in his face."

"You… threw a dust rag in his face?" Dr. Erskine said, blinking. "That's it…?"

I looked up at him in confusion. "Yes… I'm sorry," I added. "I shouldn't have lost my temper, I know I shouldn't have, he just made me so mad…"

"Calm down," Dr. Erskine encouraged. He patted my shoulder and smiled at me genuinely. I frowned, confused.

"You're not angry with me anymore?"

"Josie, I wasn't angry to begin with!" Dr. Erskine laughed. "Merely… disappointed. As I said, I wouldn't have believed it but for the fact that I've seen you react violently against people before."

I raised my eyebrows, a bit annoyed. "That was a completely different situation!" I protested. "That soldier put his hands on me, Dr. Worth just got mouthy. I can handle people getting mouthy without using violence!"

"So I see," Dr. Erskine assured me. I still winced and looked down at my lap.

"I still shouldn't have lost my temper," I muttered. "It wasn't professional."

"From what you've told me, you had every right to be a bit peeved after what Dr. Worth said to you," Dr. Erskine mused. He was still patting my shoulder soothingly. I smiled a bit at that. "I'll speak with Colonel Phillips and explain the situation to him. For now, I would advise you to just avoid Dr. Worth as much as possible. Don't give him the opportunity to rile you up."

I nodded, smiling at Dr. Erskine. "Thank you, sir."

"It's nothing," Dr. Erskine said, patting my shoulder one last time. He stood up and offered me a hand. I took it and stood. "I think it's time we got to work, eh?"

I looked up at the clock on the wall. It was nearing nine in the morning. Most of the other scientists would have already been at work for an hour now. Those who'd burned the midnight oil would likely still be passed out, but they deserved it. I knew for a fact that one of the biologists was working about sixteen hours a day. I'd see him chugging coffee in a desperate attempt to stay awake.

"That would probably be a good idea," I agreed.

"Walk with me," Dr. Erskine invited, offering me his arm. I took it, sliding my hand into the crook of his elbow. I gathered up my water in my free hand and tossed the towel over one shoulder. We headed for the door. Just as we reached it, and Dr. Erskine reached out to open it, he paused.

"What is it?" I asked curiously.

"… We have a dust rag?"

* * *

I was settled under the same tree I had taken to having my lunch under. There were a few papers scattered around me, held down by small pebbles. I took a bite of the sandwich I'd brought to eat and flipped one page over, scanning the notes I'd scribbled on the back.

It was rare that I got to work on my own research at Lehigh. Most if not all of my time was devoted to Rebirth, but I still tried to snag a few minutes to switch gears and focus on the research I loved. It was becoming almost cathartic, to let my brain focus on something besides the serum for a while.

The smell of rain and electricity were becoming familiar and welcome. I smiled slightly and looked up.

"It looks like you're making a picnic blanket out of papers."

Bucky was staring down at me, hands thrust in his pockets. He looked amused by the papers all around me. I glanced around and had to admit that he wasn't wrong. I'd surrounded myself with pages of notes.

"Just working on a little something of my own," I explained with a shrug, taking another bite of my sandwich. Bucky crouched down, tilting his head to try and read one of the papers. He looked up at me, questioning.

"Can I?"

Mouth full, I just nodded. Bucky lifted the small rock off of the center of the paper and picked it up, squinting as his eyes traced over the information on it. I saw his eyebrows shoot up when he got to the gene chart and then narrow again and the small print under it. He looked up at me, awed.

"You _understand_ all this?" he said blankly. I smiled shyly and nodded. "I don't even know what this _is!"_

I chuckled. "It's genetics. That's what I do, I'm a geneticist. Or I will be," I said determinedly.

Bucky sent the paper another confused look. "If you can get through all this then I don't doubt it."

I couldn't help it. I beamed at him. Bucky looked up at me and saw my expression. A bemused grin crossed his face.

"What?"

I was still smiling, looking at him like I'd never really looked at him before. "Just… not a lot of people are that supportive of me trying to be a geneticist."

Bucky scoffed. "Belle, I'm pretty sure you could fill books with the things you know that I don't. Like this… uh… MC1R, OCA2… What is this?" he asked, looking at the paper blankly.

I chuckled. "It's a gene map. MC1R is the gene known for giving people red hair. It's actually a mutation that's become common, which is called a polymorph. Human mutation, that's my area of interest."

"Human mutation," Bucky repeated slowly. He smiled slightly. "That's kind of crazy to think about. Tell me something else I don't know, Belle," he requested, smiling at me.

I grinned. I had the perfect thing. The first thing I did when I looked at a person was scan their face, their coloring, looking for mutations. Redheads, eye colors, cleft chins, and freckles leaped out, but you had to look closer to see things like double eyelashes or ask to find out whether or not they had wisdom teeth.

"Would it interest you to know that you are a mutant?" I asked him slyly.

Bucky blinked. "Come again?"

I nodded, smiling. "Blue eyes are a mutation. The mutation occurred millions of years ago and since then it's spread all over, but blue eyes started out as a mutation. It's become a polymorph," I explained eagerly.

"Does that mean you're a mutant too?" Bucky asked, gesturing to my own grey eyes.

My heart pounded slightly as I nodded. "Yes, I am."

"Huh." Bucky settled for a second, digesting that fact. Then he looked up at me and gave me a brilliant beam. "Well Belle, if you don't mind me saying, that's a pretty mutation you have."

I smiled, blushing slightly. "You too."


	7. Chapter 6 - Meetings

Chapter 6 - Meetings  


I was dressed nicer than usual, given that I wasn't in a lab where there was the potential for strange chemicals getting spilled on me. For my trip into Brooklyn I'd donned a navy skirt and blazer, a white button-front and scarf, and black heels. A black beret rested on top of my head and my hair was pulling back into a long braid and tossed casually over one shoulder.

I squinted up at a street sign and turned at the corner. I scanned the stores as I passed, looking for the one I needed. The antique store was on my right. When I ducked in, a little bell rang. I peered around. Like many antique shops, it was silent as the grave with the odd smell that came with age lingering in the air.

An older woman in a peach blouse smiled at me from behind the counter. "Wonderful weather we're having," she commented. I saw her right hand move beneath the counter. I had no doubt she had some kind of weapon or alarm under there and was just waiting to press it.

Hastily, I said, "Yes, but I always carry an umbrella."

She relaxed and gestured for me to follow her behind a curtain to the back room. I stepped behind the counter and glanced at the spot where she'd been standing, smiling slightly when I saw the automatic weapon resting in a little niche.

The backroom was lined with bookshelves. The woman pulled one back. I couldn't resist smiling at the cheesiness of it all as a section of the shelves slid back and revealed a long, white-tiled hallway. It looked like a hospital more than a secret government laboratory.

"There you are!"

A head popped out from the hallway with a neatly-trimmed moustache and a grin. I recognized him from the press clippings, although he looked different in slacks and a button-down instead of the classy three-piece suits.

Howard Stark winked at the older woman. "I'll take it from here, Mary."

Mary smiled back, eyes glittering in amusement. "Of course, Mister Stark."

Howard grinned after her as she left the back room. "Love that old gal, great sense of humor. You must be the Herr Doctor's favorite little scientist. Josephine Ealum, right?"

"Josie," I corrected, and offered him a hand. He took it, shook once, and then tugged me into the hallway. I got my feet back under me quickly as the bookcase slid shut behind me, nearly catching my skirt.

"Do you have my file?" Stark asked as we started down the hallway. I pulled it from my handbag and passed it over. Stark took it and immediately began flicking through the papers, making a face at some of the numbers. I didn't blame him. The latest projections for the likelihood of any test subject surviving the procedures were currently in the decimals.

"Well this just all sounds horrible," Stark announced, gesturing to the papers in his hands. "Tell me, what are things looking like on your end?"

"Currently?" Stark nodded. I drew a finger across my throat. "It could go one of three ways. Either something like the muscle replicating so fast that it bursts out of the skin or crushes the internal organs, the body burns through energy so fast that we might as well have just induced cardiac arrest, or the body begins to mutate in unexpected ways and who knows what happens from there."

Stark winced. "Extra eyes, that sort of thing?"

I shook my head. "If we're lucky."

"Great," he sighed, pushing open a pair of doubled doors. We stepped onto a grated platform. Below us was a lab in various stages of construction. Several white-coated figures rushed around with clipboards and files while others in jumpsuits tinkered with the massive amount of machinery being assembled.

"Oh," I said in awe. "That's… beautiful."

Stark grinned. "Girl after my own heart. Come on, I'll give you the grand tour."

* * *

I felt like I'd just had one too many spins on the dance floor as I stepped out of the lab. Not only was I reeling from the laboratory – I could have gushed for hours about the equipment alone, some of which was the only of its kind – but also over meeting Howard Stark. He was the sort of person who just rolled up, made your head spin with his genius, and then vanished.

I was dazed as I walked along the sidewalk. After throwing a few ideas around with Howard Stark – I had a few theories on how to improve the serum. I was mentally running trade-offs and making switches in my head, lost to the world around me as I made my way back to where I was to meet the car back to the base.

The smell of blood pulled me out of my thoughts.

I jerked to a stop and stepped to the edge of the sidewalk to stay out of the way of the other pedestrians. Pressing up against the hardware store behind me, I pretended to fiddle with something in my purse, ducking my head to disguise a long, deep inhale.

The smell of blood was coming from an alley at the other end of the block. I listened hard and could vaguely hear the sounds of fists on flesh.

Snapping my bag shut I power-walked down the last couple of yards to the mouth of the alleyway, peering down it. At the very end, half-hidden by a cluster of trash cans, a tall man with the build of a football player had a young blonde boy by the collar and was laying into him.

Indignation welled up and I shouted, "Hey!" before I even thought about it. The man stopped throwing punches and whipped around, giving the blonde time to stagger away and sag against the brick wall, wheezing disconcertingly.

"Move along, ma'am," the man barked at me. "Nothing to see here."

"On the contrary," I disagreed, stepping down the alley. "Let that poor boy go this instant!"

The man scowled. "He was mouthing off, lady, I was just teaching him some manners."

I crossed my arms, giving the man a thoroughly unimpressed stare. "What, by beating them into him? That's civilized."

The man sneered. "Whatever." He sent the blonde a dismissive glance. "Good thing your girl was here to save you, shrimp."

He storm out of the alley, bumping me with his shoulder as he passed. I glared after him, debating about whether or not to demand an apology. That would have only made the situation worse, so I let it pass. That boy needed my help more than that man needed a verbal kick in the pants.

"Come here, let me have a look at you," I said, beckoning the boy out from behind the trashcans. He stepped out, holding the sleeve of his jacket to his bleeding nose. His cheeks were pink. I got the feeling that he was embarrassed about having someone see him get the stuffing knocked out of him.

"Don't do that," I said, reaching out and gently pulling his hand away from his nose. I observed it with a wince. "Ooh, that's broken," I diagnosed. I reached into my purse, pulling out a handkerchief and passing it to him. "Use that," I urged.

"It'll stain," he protested.

"A stain on my handkerchief is close to the bottom of my list of concerns right now," I assured him, catching his unbloodied hand and leading him gently out of the alley. I glanced around and spotted a bench outside a photography studio. I headed towards it, towing the blonde behind me.

"Sit down and I'll see what I can do about that nose," I said, seating myself and patting the bench beside me. The boy sat down, pulling the stained handkerchief away from his face.

Up close, I could see that his face was that of a man, and I remembered his voice being deeper than expected. He was probably about my age, he was just so tiny he looked younger.

"You don't need to bother," the man said hastily, lifting up the handkerchief again to catch a dribble of blood before it ran off his chin. "I'll be fine."

"No you won't," I disagreed. "You'll have a twist in your nose and it'll make it harder to breathe. You already seem to have trouble with that, judging by the way you're wheezing."

It was fainter now, but still present. The man immediately tried to correct it, taking deep, slow breaths like it didn't bother him.

"Asthma," he admitted sheepishly. I nodded in understanding.

"I see. Then you should definitely let me fix this."

"Are you a nurse?" he asked curiously. I shook my head.

"No, but I've fixed enough broken noses after my cousins got in fights. It will hurt," I warned him. He straightened up, trying to look tough, but I could almost smell the nerves on him.

"Go ahead," he approved.

I braced my hand on his forehead to keep him from jerking with me and delicately pinched his nose between the knuckles of two of my fingers. Ruthlessly, I jerked. The man let out a yip of pain as the cartilage slid back into place. I quickly released him and his hands jerked up to cover his nose, his eyes watering.

"Sorry about that," I apologized. "There's really no better way to do it."

"That's fine," he gasped, wiping at his eyes with the handkerchief. He scrubbed at his face, trying to get rid of the blood on his face. "Thank you," he said as he dabbed at his cheek and winced. I guessed he'd probably have a bruise there later on.

"Onions," I advised.

He blinked at me. "What?"

"Onions," I repeated. "They help with bruises. I'm guessing you'll have some here in an hour or two."

He wiped the last of the blood off his chin and frowned down at the handkerchief. It was more red than white now. He looked up at me sheepishly. "Uh…"

"It doesn't matter." I took the handkerchief from him, wadded it up, and tossed it in a nearby trashcan.

"Thanks for all your help, ma'am," he said.

"Josie," I introduced myself, offering a hand. He started to take it with his bloody hand, but quickly switched. We shared an awkward, fumbling handshake before he said, "Steve."

That sparked a memory. Skinny guy, always getting in fights, named Steve.

"Do you by any chance know a Bucky Barnes?" I asked him slowly.

Steve jerked in recognition, staring at me with wide eyes. "Buck? Yeah, he's my best friend. How do you know him?"

I smiled. "Ah, then you're the Steve I've heard about that's always getting into fights."

Steve winced. "Ah. He told you about that?"

I nodded before assuring him. "Only good things, I promise. There aren't many good topics for conversation on an Army base."

Steve stared at me askance. "You met Bucky at basic?"

I winced. "Oh, yes, it sounds odd. I work on the base. Nothing I can talk about," I added hastily before Steve could open his mouth to ask. "But we've met. He's been a relief, actually. One of the only men there I can have a conversation with without getting propositioned."

Steve smiled fondly. "That's Bucky. Whatever you need, he's there. How is he doing?" Steve asked eagerly.

"Well," I assured him. "He's seemed happy every time I've spoken to him. He's gotten into a few fights of his own," I smiled.

Steve scoffed. "And he gives me a hard time. Thanks for telling me, I'll have something to hold over him when he gets back in a week."

I winced slightly, staring at my lap. My fingers twiddled the end of my scarf. That was right, Bucky would be leaving Camp Lehigh in a week. His basic was almost over. I would miss him a lot. More than I'd realized, actually. I hadn't realized until I considered him leaving how much I would miss hearing him yelling "Belle!" and listening to me without judgment.

I shook my head slightly and dug my fingernails into my palms. The familiar pricks of pain grounded me.

"Glad I could help. Mind telling me what happened back there?" I asked, nodding to the alley. Steve winced.

"Oh, uh… Just this guy… shooting his mouth off… badmouthed a couple of soldiers."

I nodded in understanding. With a best friend in basic I could understand why Steve wouldn't take well to that. And I had to admit, I probably would have done the same thing had I heard it.

I glanced at my watch. The car was due in ten minutes and it would take about that long to walk there. I was certain they would wait, but I didn't want to waste the driver's time. "It was wonderful to meet you Steve, but I had a meeting I have to get to."

"Good to meet you too," Steve said jovially as we both stood up. "Wish it could have been under better circumstances. Thanks for the nose though."

"Not a problem," I assured him, waving as I left.

* * *

"Belle!"

I turned around to see Bucky step out of the door of his barracks. I stopped, waiting for him a few feet down the road. He rushed over to me, a grin on his face. I felt a pang, remembering that I didn't have a lot of time left with him, and then cursed myself for it.

"Bucky." I smiled in greeted. "It's good to see you."

"You too." He was looking me up and down. Unlike when the other soldiers did it, his gaze made me feel warm and wonderful. I felt a blush stain my cheeks. Bucky skipped politely over my chest and looked me in the eye. I knew he caught the blush, because his smile widened by a few molars. "Belle, you look…" He shook his head helplessly. "Maybe if I read as much as you do I'd have a better word for it, but _beautiful_ will have to do."

I flushed. That… was absolutely the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to me. I felt shy under his gaze as Bucky continued to trail his eyes over me, following the loop of my scarf and the fall of my braid like he didn't want to miss a single detail.

I looked down at my feet and managed to say, "Thank you, Bucky."

"May I escort the lady back to her quarters?" Bucky asked gallantly, offering me an arm. I took the offer and the pair of us started walking through camp.

"So what's got you all dolled up?" Bucky asked, sending me yet another appreciative stare from the corner of his eyes.

I hesitated a moment, wondering just how much I could say. "I had to take some papers to Brooklyn." That was vague enough.

Bucky nodded knowingly. "And you can't say any more than that, right?"

I shook my head. "Not if I want to keep my job."

"We'll leave it at that then. I like having you around, Belle."

I blushed again. It didn't know if it was me dolled up that had Bucky being so flirtatious or if he was just growing fonder of me. I'd like to think it was the second one. I was growing fonder of him too the more times we talked. He was genuinely a good man, which was about the highest compliment I could think to give a person. He was kind and happy and funny and everything a man should be.

My heart was pitter-pattering as I replied softly, "I like having you around as well, Bucky."

I looked up and saw that he seemed pleased by that.

"I met Steve today," I said, changing the subject. I didn't know if I could handle any more compliments from Bucky without my heart exploding out of my chest or my face going permanently red.

Bucky jerked, looking around at me in shock. "You did? How? What happened?"

I chuckled slightly. "You were right. He does get in a lot of fights."

Bucky groaned and smacked himself in the forehead with his free hand. He dragged his hand down his face, sighed, and asked resignedly, "What did he do?"

"Apparently he confronted a man who was bad-mouthing some soldiers," I recalled. "I got them apart. He was bruised quite a bit and his nose was broken by the end, but I straightened it out for him and gave him some advice on the bruises. He seemed alright when I left him."

"Thank you, Bucky said earnestly. "There aren't a lot of ladies that would have stepped up for him."

I raised an eyebrow at that. "Then they aren't ladies."

Bucky chuckled at that. "I suppose not. So I've been reading that book you lent me."

"Have you?" I asked eagerly. "Do you like it?"

"Well," Bucky frowned thoughtfully, "it took me a while to figure out what was going on. It's a little…"

"Old?" I supplied. He nodded.

"But it's a little crazy. I mean, thinking about a person with that kind of monster inside? Sounds like the plot from some horror flick."

I felt like someone had just punched me in the chest, but I forced myself not to stop, not to say anything. Instead I lowered my eyes to the ground.

"Ah. Right. Horrifying," I agreed faintly.

"I mean I like the book," Bucky said hastily. I looked up and saw that he was looking down at me worriedly. I smiled wryly. He thought he'd offended me. He had a little, but not for the reason he thought.

"It's fine, it's not for everyone," I said, plastering a smile on my face.

"I haven't finished it – like I said, it's a little hard to get through – but I think it's a pretty interesting story so far."

My smile was a little more genuine at that. "That's good. This is me," I said, nodding in the direction of my quarters.

"Alright then, I'll leave you here," Bucky said. I let go of his arm and turned to face him. "I'll see you around, right Belle?"

He was looking a little concerned, like he thought I was upset with him. I was a little less than pleased with how he'd reacted to Jekyll and Hyde, but I couldn't honestly say I didn't expect it. It hurt a little, but I didn't blame him.

I nodded, smiling at him in reassurance. "I'll be here."

Bucky's shoulders sagged, relieved. "Good," he beamed. "And hey, try and deliver some papers to Brooklyn after I'm gone."

"I will," I chuckled, and opened the door of my barracks, stepping inside. I saw Peggy sitting at her desk, calmly going through reports. Her eyes were fixed on me knowingly.

"Not. A. Word."

"I didn't say anything."


	8. New Version Up

**And the new Only Forever is up. Why? Because I woke up this morning with Josie on my mind wanting to do her justice. I sat down at my computer and didn't stop writing until I had the first couple chapters complete. So please, go check out her new beginning and we'll see how this version goes!  
**


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